25. eye-fucking.

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"I can't eat another slice," Michael whines, falling back onto the couch with his hands patting his stomach. "I feel like I'm going to be sick,"

"What, seriously?" Ashley frowns, shoving her seventh into her mouth, "Wow, you're weak,"

"I've eaten more than you!" he argues.

"I've had seven, Michael," seven. My bad. "This is my eighth,"

"And I've had nine! Nine's bigger than seven," Michael counteracts, looking proud of himself for doing the math.

Luke just rolls his eyes, munching on his own slice as he sends a wink my way. He has one arm draped lazily over the couch behind me, the other one bent to balance his pizza.

I laugh at my newly formed friends, taking a sip of my drink.

"Are you sure you two have never met before?" he asks them, eyebrows slowly raising. He's concentrated on the TV, though it's obvious he won't be watching much if there's bickering in the background.

Michael almost sighs, "Unfortunately,"

"Unfortunately?" Ashley repeats, eyes almost bulging out of her sockets. I can tell she's trying to surpress her inner fangirl, but it's much harder for her seeing as they've never met before yet they've already hit it off.

"Yeah, like I'm sad I never knew you before," Michael tells her simply, before turning to Luke. "We're so alike, it's crazy. She's like me but, with a vagina,"

"I have a dick, actually," she doesn't hesitate to retort, "And it's huge,"

"Ash," I groan, suddenly not in the mood for pizza anymore as I set it down. Luke chuckles.

My best friend just smirks, "Oh, please. You've seen it before,"

"I have?"

"Yes, you have,"

"I don't think so. But I've seen your boobs,"

"And I've touched yours,"

"I don't recall-"

"We were drunk," she waves me off.

"Ah, I see," I nod, cracking a small smile as Ashley bursts out laughing.

"Is this normal?" I hear Michael ask Luke.

Luke just shrugs, wrapping an arm around my waist before pulling me in close, "Hope not,"

"Why? You jealous?" I ask him playfully, not at all expecting his very straightforward answer of,

"Yeah."

There isn't really much to do for the rest of the evening so we just hang out at Luke's house.

He dims the lights and puts on some crappy horror film on the TV- not enough to scare, but certainly enough to provide entertaining background noise.

We end up being as unsociable as ever, with Ashley and Michael isolated on one couch and Luke and I on the other.

She scrolls through her Tumblr feed, looking up and nudging him every now and again to show him a meme. In all honesty, it's cute how comfortable they've already gotten with each other, and I start to wonder why on earth I didn't make this happen earlier despite having the power to.

"Hey," Luke nudges me, smiling softly. I look over at him, slightly confused as he holds up his phone.

"What?"

"Wanna take a pic?" he asks, grinning cheekily.

I can't help the amused smile that tugs on my lips. "What, like a selfie?"

"Same thing," he sets up the flash, turning the phone the other way around. "Say-"

I sit up, knowing I have virtually no time to sort the mess that is my face out, "Wait, I'm not rea-"

"Cheese!" the flash resonates before the shutter sound statts, making me groan internally at the thought of looking like a drenched ragdoll in the first ever picture we've taken together.

Luke probably looks cute, seeing as his smile was wide and so were his eyes. I was no doubt in mid-blink when he took it, and as I take his phone to examine the shot, my thoughts are confirmed.

"Luke," I whine, and he chuckles, "I look like the Grudge,"

"What? No you don't," he says, taking his phone back. When his eyes finally land on the picture again, he bites his lip down to stop himself from laughing even more. "You look..."

I sigh, "Don't say it."

"...Very..."

"Don't say it,"

"...Cute?"

"You said it," I huff, crossing my arms.

Once again, his laugh is light, and he gives me a side hug before pressing his lips against my temple, "Baby, you don't look bad,"

"Shut up," I groan, dragging out my words to emphasise my aggravation.

"I'm being serious! You could never look bad-"

"I look like a coke dealer,"

"A coke dealer?"

"Mhm," I murmur, "A coke dealer who doesn't sell his coke for the right amount of money,"

"So specific." Luke says, wriggling his eyebrows for no apparent reason at me to get me to laugh. I can't seem to hold back the little giggle that escapes my mouth, and this makes him smile even wider.

From the other side of the room, we hear gagging. And as I lower my phone, both Ashley and Michael scrap theirs; their eyes trailing off into somewhere in the distance, lips pursed in an 'act-casual' whistle.

"Do you two mind?" I ask, raising an eyebrow, though I'm not annoyed in the slightest.

"Mind? Mind what?" Michael whistles.

"Mind being idiots," Luke says, playfully glaring at them.

"Us?" Ashley quips back, "We're not the ones eye-fucking each other on the loveseat, Hemmings,"

"You're on a loveseat too," I narrow my gaze, gesturing to the couch both her and Michael are positioned on.

"They're just jealous that they're not us," Luke jokes, leaning back nonchalantly.

"True," I say, and Michael scoffs.

"Excuse you, but Ashchael can beat Suke any day," he says, sticking his chest out in confidence. "Jack may be the better Hemmings, but we're the better pair,"

"What the fuck is an Ashchael?" Ashley asks, stuck on the initial topic.

"What the fuck is a Suke?" I ask at the exact same time, and our voices come together in a chorus of profanities.

"Language." Luke murmurs. Unlike all the other times I'd usually roll my eyes, I just nod, feeling somewhat guilty for letting the word slip.

Michael rolls his eyes, "Listen, I'm no fangirl. I don't get these boatnames,"

"Shipnames," I correct him.

"Same thing. Might as well call them navynames. Or tanknames," he snickers, nudging Ashley to get her approval. When she stays stone faced, his laughter fades. "Get it? Because tanks and navyboats are ships,"

"You are too precious for this world," Ashley says, very slowly, as she pats him on the head; a patronizing gesture turned good, for Michael grins happily.

This causes Luke to rip his gaze away from me, and I watch as he parts his lips, "Mike?"

"Hmm?"

"Did you dye your hair?"

"Did you just come back from recess?" Ashley asks him, slight shock and a hint of sarcasm in her tone.

"Dude, how much attention do you actually pay to me?" Michael asks him, frowning as he absentmindedly scoots closer to Ashley, allowing her to play with his hair.

Luke shrugs, "Not a lot."

"Rude,"

"I just don't care that much."

"Well, fuck you, then," Michael's tone is offended, and I watch as he aims a pillow in our direction.

Thankfully, it doesn't come into contact with my face, for Luke catches it effortlessly with one hand- making sure to send a triumphant look my way after.

He looks so proud of himself, it's hard not to feel the same sense of pride for him. "Dork." I say.

"Nerd," he retaliates, spinning the pillow betwen his two fingers.

"Geek,"

"Tumblr-queen,"

"Has-been,"

"Wannabe,"

"Kurt-Cobain lookalike," I fire back, and Luke gasps dramatically, his hand automatically tugging on his striped shirt.

"You did not,"

"I did too,"

"She's not wrong," Ashley quips, glancing up from her meme-search. We look at her, small grins on our faces. "Cut the hair, Lucas."

Although I would have agreed with her sometime before, I find myself shrugging now. I think I've slowly, but surely, grown to like it.

"Is it really that bad?" Luke asks, messing it up with his hands. It's crazy to think that just three years ago, it was barely long enough to hold a quiff.

"Nah," I tell him, and he looks at me, searching for the sarcasm on my face. "What?"

"I thought you didn't like it?" he asks skeptically.

"It's not that I didn't like it, I just liked your quiff," and your lipring. And your old Instagram username. And your flannel. "But this is nice, too. It looks good,"

"You think so?" he bites his lip, but it's not in the usual Luke-lip-bite-way.

It's in the cute, 'I'm insecure but I can't let you know that because I'm a man and you might think of me otherwise if I do' way.

"Mhm," I hum, twirling my finger around one of the locks. "Just do me a favour,"

"And what is that?" he asks, grinning.

I lean forward, knowing that Ashley and Michael are probably too far into laughing at pictures on the internet to notice.

"Don't tie it up," I murmur. Luke gives me a slight raised eyebrow, evidently not sure what I'm hinting at.

"Huh? How come?"

"I wanna be able to pull on it," when he looks confused, I trail a hand up the nape of his neck, giving a single lock a light tug. His eyes then widen, catching onto my subtlety immediately. "I might not have to grip the bedsheets, then."

It's obvious that he wasn't expecting that from me, in any way, shape or form. So a slight sense of pride bubbles up in my chest as Luke stares at me in shock; eyes lightly glazed over, lips parted.

"So yeah," I clear my throat, turning my attention back to the TV as I hear Luke catch a small breath. I flash him one last smile, "Don't cut it."

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